


Power Down

by urusai_lilania



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Boredom, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Gay Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urusai_lilania/pseuds/urusai_lilania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boredom is the number one cause of just about anything amongst students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Down

**Author's Note:**

> Just another older story I'm uploading to motivate me into working on some new ones.

It was storming outside. This fact on its own was dissatisfying to Izaya, but honestly there wasn’t much else to do. He’d tried jumping onto the Internet, maybe make a pest of himself or to play with a few of the girls from neighboring schools. Surely the weather behaving this way would have made  _someone_  down in the dumps…

But no, he didn’t feel like catering to that hobby today. Just  _thinking_  about school irked him.

Okay, but then what? What other hobbies did he have? Could he think of?

His mind was blank.

Minutes ticked on in an awkward void before the heavens grew even angrier, thunder crashing loudly, the power giving one final groan before it died.

Izaya sat down heavily in his chair, resting his chin in his palm. It still ached from earlier, when he had fallen hard on his hands and knees, skinning them up. He had been running from that beast. Shaking his head, Izaya wondered how Shizuo was always so ready to go at it, to just drop everything and try to  _kill_  him.

They weren’t really trying to kill each other, Simon had said. It’s just puberty. Did puberty make two people react so powerfully to the mere sight of each other that they just  _had_  to go at it? …Well,  _yes_ , if it was put that way. But Izaya wasn’t so gung-ho about it. …Ah, that wasn’t right. He did enjoy egging Shizuo every time he found him. Every time he was found. As long as Shizuo was still too far to notice, Izaya could smile and let the waves of excitement pound into his heart, through his veins.

It was hard to contain. Never had a human made such an impact on Izaya. Even if Izaya could try and claim he had grown bored of the game,  _that guy_  wouldn’t let him quit. Not until he was ready. Would Izaya be ready then too? What if Shizuo tried to end their game before Izaya was bored?

Ah, that gave him an idea—their game had no rules, after all. Grabbing his phone, Izaya closed out of the other opened actions and paused briefly, wondering what would be the best tactic. Straight and easy won the race, didn’t it? Yeah, no point in wasting time with formalities; he’d just ask and get right to business. Shinra talked too much.

Izaya let it ring, his mind rolling over what it was that he was trying to accomplish. Shinra’s voice greeted him nonchalantly, but curiosity tainted his tone. “Ahh, Izaya, to what do I owe the intrusion?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Izaya replied, his nose twitching slightly as he tried to find the right words. Ultimately, this was Shinra… “Give me Shizu-chan’s number?”

“What?” Yup, the boy sounded incredulous. “I’m not sure I should. This isn’t about earlier, is it? You guys were kinda–” But knowing Shinra, his interest was piqued.

Sighing, Izaya leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I’ll make it worth your while later, Shinra.”

“Oh? Is Izaya Orihara-kun offering  _me_  a favor? Open-ended? Well then, that changes things. Give me a sec.”

Rolling his eyes at his eager friend, Izaya replied, “I’m honored.”

It was as easy as that. If Shinra hadn’t forked over the number, then Izaya would have simply gone another route—he had several. It was just far easier to please Shinra than some of the others, and Izaya didn’t feel like trying to find it for himself today. Like black tar would stick to his fingers for trying…

What was he planning? He didn’t have one… did he? At this point, Izaya hardly cared. He wasn’t sure what he intended, but he had an idea… let the cards fall where they will. He wanted to see the result.

His fingers cautiously flicked at his phone, giving him the chance to cancel this stupid hobby before it took root. Yes, he knew what he wanted to do now. But would that damn brute give him the satisfaction? Of course not… if he  _would_ , maybe Izaya would love him some. Just a little. Maybe. Izaya felt a thickness in his throat at the thought. Okay, so he was lying to himself. He hit the send button with a small growl that cleared his throat and waited impatiently.

The ringing stopped almost immediately, some sort of exhalation into the receiver. “Who is this?” the voice on the other end growled with annoyance. “I’m busy.”

The very sound of that voice sent Izaya’s blood boiling… Smiling with gritted teeth, he allowed himself one brief inhalation of oxygen before he twisted his voice. “Ah, Shizu-chan~ Miss me?”

There was something that sounded like Shizuo had swallowed awkwardly before it was suddenly buried beneath the sound of grinding teeth. “Go to Hell, asshole.”

“Waaah? Come on now, I know you love me.” Izaya’s lips twisted into a sneer as he said the words, his fingers twirling an imaginary phone cord. This was disgusting… but why was it so damn  _absorbing_? Sighing as lightly as he could manage, Izaya kicked off of his desk and spun his chair around, but it didn’t make the heaviness in his gut settle.

Shizuo sounded as though he were fighting off a bear to get a hold of his phone, but when he finally replied, the blonde simply said, “I’d love to get my hands around your throat, louse.”

Laughing, Izaya glanced down before letting his eyes wander off. “Is that a date, Shizu-chan? Let me get out my planner so I can be sure to get this down.”

There was a loud, resounding click as Shizuo hung up. Smirking, Izaya redialed the number and waited. The hobby was rooted; there was no hesitation. He’d get the bastard good… he just needed an opening.

“ _What_.”

“I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me…”  _Really_. The friction burns along his body meant so much to Izaya, he couldn’t possibly live without the excruciating pain in his gut—and by gut, he meant his pants. Fucking pants… Fucking Heiwajima Shizuo.

The blonde seemed to share his pain, if that growling noise on the other end meant anything at all. It sounded about right… “Call a fucking sex line if you want that shit.”

Ah, wow. That was definitely the problem. This was almost too easy… “Ooh, Shizu-chan, I wouldn’t want to call just  _anybody_ …”

“Suck it.”

“I can’t do that until you give me a  _time_ , don’t get so rushed.”

“Fucking whore.” The phone made a tiny electronic scream in protest and the call ended. Presumably, Shizuo had just murdered the thing. Waste of a good phone, Izaya mused. But it was a necessary sacrifice to his game.

What had he just done? Izaya grimaced at his phone before letting it slip from his fingers. …Now what? Shizuo just might be out the game, and all Izaya had honestly done for sure was excite  _himself_. Idly he thumped his fingers against the crotch of his pants. With each tap his body jerked, recoiling. He was just thinking away in his head to avoid his present situation, nothing more, but then the reaction got him smirking. Anything Shizuo could do to him was infinitely worse; there’d be more than a small jerk then.

Ah, the retarded blonde again. Izaya really needed to stop doing that. His thoughts were continuously turning to the blonde and it was unacceptable. It was as if the guy had more control over Izaya’s mind than he himself did—and that dumbass could barely handle his own. The raven-haired male growled with annoyance.

His chest stung, the pain balling into a tight knot before pulsing like rapid-fire through his entire body. White hot pain. His chest felt too tight within his shirt. His pants… were, in fact, too tight. Again with this damned base craving… but maybe he could make a hobby of it. For tonight, anyway. There wasn’t anything else, right? And it’s what he intended from the start…

How many times had Shizuo embarrassed him at school so far? Surely the blonde had noticed Izaya’s growing need for distance in their fights. It wasn’t just because the blonde was fierce up close and personal; he seemed to not give a damn about mounting the red-eyed male, did not  _care_  how indecent this was given Izaya’s sudden interest. Didn’t care how much Izaya demanded he get off him, his face burning scarlet as he squirmed beneath that stupid beast, the heat rising in his gut. That bastard just grinned, eyes widened with rage and  _ground into him_. What the fuck was that?

Of course, Izaya was not particularly fond of this growing distance, either. And the incorrigible need his body had recently developed was attempting to blot out his reasoning. Idly the crimson-eyed male hooked his fingers in his mouth, thinking. He had nothing better to do… Rain was pounding against the roof, the power was out. He was bored out of his fucking mind. What more excuse did one need, really?

The belt he removed quickly for sake of making things easier, but once that was done, Izaya quirked an eyebrow at his zipper. The pain in his chest was screaming at being acknowledged. But there was no fun in simply diving right in, was there…

Scoffing softly, Izaya picked up his phone with one hand, queuing the number while his other hand flicked at his zipper. How far was he going to go to torment himself today?

Pretty far, it seemed.

The phone was ringing and the game begun before Izaya even realized what he had in mind. He wondered if he would be able to get through to the blonde… maybe even see the reaction written out plain as day on the idiot’s face when they saw each other at school tomorrow.

“ _What_.” Ah, so the phone had survived—though it likely wouldn’t for much longer.

“Haa… Shizu-chan’s grip is a lot better than mine~” Izaya murmured breathily into the phone. He fought the urge to chuckle at what sounded like Shizuo nearly crushing his phone in his hand. “Bet it feels good.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shizuo demanded loudly. “ _Fuck_ , man! Where do you get off on this shit?”

“Haha… ngh… Shizu-chan, don’t you too? Or are you just a tease? You aren’t trying to lead me on, are you? That’d hurt me, you know.”

“You’re a sick little freak.”

“Haha, Shizu-chan likes dirty talk? I’m game, throw me some more.”

“Tch.”  _Click_.

Izaya dropped his phone; the plastic clattered with annoyance as it hit his desk, the display light flaring on before it fell from view. Annoying. This was boring. A phone call wasn’t nearly the same—didn’t provide nearly the thrill. Stupid. He was done with that fair-haired monstrosity.

But he wasn’t done; he’d never be done.

A loud, rending noise came from the entrance hall.

Within moments the blonde was standing over him, chest heaving as he panted angrily, his clothes soaked through. Teeth grinding loudly, eyes ablaze, Shizuo steamed furiously as he stared down at the mess the raven-haired male had made of himself.

“Ah… Shizu-chan’s mad now.” Izaya chuckled weakly, wincing as the other male’s hand shot out and balled itself in his shirt, pulling Izaya up off the floor.

“ _Now_.”

Izaya blinked dumbly at his captor, wondering why he had left his knife in his jacket – his jacket across the room, far from helpful. “W…wah?”

“You wanted a fucking time? Now. Now’s your fucking time, louse.”

“Ah, okay. Let me get my planner…” Izaya murmured playfully, turning in the taller boy’s grip in search of the unseen object. His long arms dangled, his fingers uselessly gracing the air above his desk.

A deep growl made itself known within the blonde’s throat as he narrowed his eyes at his catch. “Write your little girly shit later. This is your fault, so you’re taking care of it.”

Izaya barked out an excited laugh. “Ever the businessman!” He couldn’t tell if it was the other boy’s proximity and threatening stance that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end or the sudden peal of thunder slipping through what he could only assume was his now doorless front door. All he knew was they were both grinning like sharks. Bloodthirsty, mindless sharks.

Shizuo lifted his hostage above him, his arms shaking with barely contained rage. Izaya cackled gleefully down upon the blonde’s face, kicking his pants off his legs and wrapping them around his captor’s waist. “Yo, Shizu-chaaaan~,” he sang. Izaya reached out and wrapped his arms around Shizuo’s skull, tangling his fingers in the blonde locks. “Shinra tells me you’re a brunette where it counts.”

The vein on Shizuo’s forehead looked as though it was about to jump off and throttle Izaya itself. Tossing reason to the wind in favor of curiosity, Izaya jerked forward and licked Shizuo’s forehead, dropping a hand from the larger boy’s skull.

Shizuo went rigid, his eyes growing in size as he stared in disbelief at the boy in his grasp. There was a hand down his pants gripping him threateningly.

“Heh, figures…” Izaya murmured. “Shizu-chan is even angry down here…”

“OW, what the  _fuck_  you piece of shit?” Shizuo snarled, attempting to toss his host away; Izaya dropped and held on, clinging tightly. The raven-haired male raised his free hand to his face curiously, holding up a hair. “Yep, brown. So you’re not a Saiyan then…”

“The fuck are you on, plucking my hair out?”

Izaya blinked innocently, dropping the hair. “Oh? But it’s always best to check a source’s validity.”

Shizuo growled with annoyance, smacking the dark-haired male hard near his ear. Through the growing haze he barely distinguished the rattled look on Izaya’s face before it was ruined by words flowing from the bastard’s gaping mouth. “Ne-eh, Shizu-chan, what’re you—”

“Don’t you have a fucking off switch?” the blonde demanded abruptly, wrapping his fingers around Izaya’s throat and slamming the male down hard. He tried staring at the slippery bastard and thinking of kittens. Now he had a horrible urge to hurt kittens; better to just take out his frustrations on the slippery one. 

The back of Izaya’s skull connected with his desk, the impact sparking electric singing stars and making the world turn black for a few unnerving seconds. “Ngh!!” he choked, trying to get his nails beneath the brute’s grip to pry himself free. He had foolishly fallen for the lull in the violence—a stalemate was not the same as having the upper hand… if he had it.

“Tch.” Squirming around only proved to piss off the enraged bull further still; Shizuo brought his other hand and gripped Izaya’s face, covering his mouth.  _Hard_. The lanky teen could feel his lower jaw grinding painfully out of place as the pressure grew. The lack of oxygen hit Izaya almost immediately; he smacked a hand around on the desk, he let go of the claws at his throat and grappled with Shizuo’s shirt, he tried to force his jaw loose to bite the damn bastard’s fingers, he bucked up at the brute…

A shudder shot through Shizuo’s arms and into the trapped male’s body. The blonde was already dead-set on ignoring the pantsless state of the louse; he had dealt with plenty of people in various states of dress during his fights. What he _couldn’t_  ignore was the damn audacity the guy had to act like he had the  _right_  to touch Shizuo’s shit. The hand at Izaya’s mouth suddenly let go, choosing to grip threateningly at the hem of his underwear instead. “Shi– _UGH_!” Izaya spat as he and his apartment wall got to know each other better. His guest had kindly picked him up and chucked him. Izaya’s flesh burned with the knowledge of instantaneous bruising of muscles and bones – the almost certainty of broken things as well.

Despite the million screaming, enraged, excited voices in the young man’s head all focused on Shizuo, Shizuo, Heiwajima Shizuo the bloody thoughtless bitch of a bastard clouding his ability to think fast, a single quiet thought slipped into his mind and hit home. He was feeling rather exposed.

Trying to stop his eyes from blinking insanely, or at the very least to blink in unison, Izaya glanced cautiously up from where he lay to see his guest growling at his liberated underwear. They had been ripped right off in Shizuo’s insane grip when he lugged Izaya at the innocent wall.

For some reason, it was at this point he decided to run.

Izaya was good at sprinting, was becoming rather  _excellent_  at it recently. But getting a good run going in the middle of a busy city was a lot easier than the violated privacy of your own apartment, almost entirely naked with a good preemptive bashing of your body and a touch of carnal mutiny thrown in.

As his host attempted to bolt for the next room, Shizuo reached out and caught him by the collar of his shirt. Izaya jolted to a halt, gagging harshly. He glanced over his shoulder to see Shizuo in his usual incensed and mindless splendor, teeth bared, veins threatening to explode. To say the blonde was grinning with excitement wasn’t an understatement but a misinterpretation. Izaya could see those teeth slick with saliva  _vibrating_  from the male’s heated growling inhalations. It was about as intimidating as an enormous genetically altered shark whose teeth had been replaced with several rows of massive roaring chainsaws.

Izaya was not a normal youth. A normal youth would run screaming from the sight of this terribly potent display of attention by Shizuo, pissing their pants for good measure. Izaya’s first instinct was to taunt. Then there might be running. The only screaming would be done by his lungs as he ran off cackling mad. The itch to  _poke_  the seething bastard was ringing in his ears, his fingertips. Izaya didn’t want to die; it didn’t mean he didn’t have a death wish. “My, my. Most people are required to pay upfront for this much skin, Shizu-chan. If you wanted it this badly I could have at least given you a little show!” Brown eyes flared, that feral grin locking in place.

The itch spread from the thinker’s hands to his face; Izaya’s teeth were rattling. The excitement and adrenaline was flooding, threatening to drown him. This stupid, uncooperative blonde prick was proving an addicting hobby – it’d be a real test of skill to disengage this hobby when the time came. “You’re no fun, Shizu-chan. Don’t you know what love is like?”

“Don’t you talk about that shit like you know what it is!” Shizuo growled, spinning the raven-haired male around in his grip and slamming his chest hard into another wall. Izaya hissed softly, his face stinging from the impact. But then… the sound of a zipper? Izaya snapped, maddened laughter erupting from his lungs as he pressed his palms flat against the wall. “I thought Shizu-chan was kidding before!” he said loudly, squirming about.

“This is not a fucking joke, louse!”

“Ggh! Jeez, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Izaya hissed mutedly as his tongue tried to jump out of his mouth with his esophagus. “That thing’s  _gotta_  be a joke.” He felt like he was splitting, like a redwood trunk was taking revenge on a wood splitter for fucking with all the trees in the forest.

Izaya’s muttering only earned a much more forceful greeting than the first. Izaya specialized in being chased—he wasn’t used to being  _caught_ , even if he had let it happen. His body attested the fact, complaining aggressively to its intruder and only receiving an indifferent and redoubled series of thrusts. The material of Izaya’s shirt was being ripped by the increasing friction, his chest and cheek catching fire. He was being chewed up and rubbed out.

Now he knew what the eraser at the end of a pencil felt like.

Like Hell Shizuo was going to rub him out of existence so easily. Using his hands as leverage, Izaya returned the grind entirely out of time, shoving his back hard into the chest of the other male. The grip on his hips became known as it strengthened its resolve, the other hand mimicking the act once it found the package in the front. For every time Izaya threw out the rhythm, he was rewarded with a rather brutal rebuttal to his dick.

This, of course, was not enough to keep the crimson-eyed youth from persisting. Neither was biting, smacking, tugging, ripping, or anything else Shizuo did. Or the wet blistering mess that blew in through the doorframe several minutes into it; by that point it was too late to take a raincheck. Nothing short of Simon from Russian Sushi with a delivery was going to cut into their bout tonight.

~~~

The black biker returned home from another fruitless search to find her roommate in the living area, staring wide-eyed at his phone. Curiously she approached him, pulling out her PDA.

Shinra was turning blue. Celty watched the boy, concern for him growing fast.

[Are you okay? Breathe, Shinra! Don’t forget to breathe!]

“ _Ah_ , Celty! Shh,” Shinra whispered hurriedly. He had that look… Celty had seen it far too many times for her liking. That sick Kishitani curiosity. Her concerned died instantly. Sighing, she sat down beside the male.

[Who are you talking to? Are you on hold? It sounds strange…]

“What? Oh. Oh, Izaya must’ve butt-dialed me or something,” Shinra explained in hushed tones, waving a hand dismissively.

[Why don’t you just hang up on him then? Why are you whispering?] A loud, pained sound interrupted her interrogation, breaking down into a strangled cackling; the dullahan nearly dropped her PDA as Shinra instantly killed his phone. [What in the world was  _THAT_??]

“N-nothing! Nothing we should worry ourselves over!” Shinra had been sitting there for so long he hadn’t realized how late it was getting… he was starving. “ _Ah_! Ooooh. I’m gonna call Russia Sushi!” Shinra announced eagerly, dashing off into another room with his phone.

Celty still didn’t understand the boy sometimes, and right now, she  _really_  didn’t want to.

**Author's Note:**

> Preparing for a major comeback to fanfiction! RAWR!
> 
> Interested in checking out my original writing? You can find it [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!


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